


Rebuilding

by lemonypond



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Between Seasons/Series, Gen, Papa Coulson, Recovery, post season one finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-24
Updated: 2014-07-24
Packaged: 2018-02-10 04:47:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2011440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonypond/pseuds/lemonypond
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil Coulson and Jemma Simmons rebuild their relationship and Shield.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rebuilding

Jemma Simmons was beyond tired these days, but she put on a bright face whenever anyone was in the room.  Her cuts and bruises were slowly fading, and the ones that remained she did her best to conceal-sweaters and blazers were great for that. Fitz was still incapacitated, and she felt so many emotions. Helplessness. Fear. Gratitude. Love. Annoyance. Frustration. Desperation.  If she spent too long thinking about any one of those emotions she began to crumble.  She did her best to reserve that for late at night alone in her room, or for the moment she would leave Fitz’s room. Her sleep was still erratic. Images of the shattering glass and the flood of water she could never break free from and Fitz closing his eyes and hitting the button.  Her screams being literally drowned out. Focusing on research was the only thing that kept her together. She couldn’t lie and say she was fine, so she said nothing at all and flashed a smile. 

The Bus was still being repaired, but the lab was the first thing to meet code- Coulson’s orders. The team was fully supportive, forcing her to leave the lab to eat and to sleep. Skye and her laptop would keep her company, even offering up blood samples without a whimper of protest, which amused her greatly. May had extended an invitation to train along with her and Skye. She’d politely declined, but May with a warm smile insisted it was an open invitation, and would ask every few days to see if she had changed her mind. She had decided she would eventually, just not yet. She still had so much to do. Trip made brownies more than once; his grandmother’s recipe he had mentioned. He would sit in the lab with her and read on occasion. He would sit in total silence if that was what she wanted; occasionally humming as he shuffled the never ending stack of files. She found his presence comforting. 

Even Koenig was always checking in to see if he could offer her any assistance in acquiring any scientific equipment, which she found to be both thoughtful and off-putting. The medical team would go over Fitz’s status with her on a daily basis, more often if she requested, and they listened to her input, despite her status as only a PhD. They had all read many of her papers from Sci-Ops and her tenure on Coulson’s team and had incorporated many of her research protocols into their work. A few even asked for her to autograph their clip boards, which made her mildly uncomfortable. 

The only person that she had not seen much since their ordeal in the ocean was Agent Coulson. Well, Director Coulson, she had to remind herself.  He would check in on her every few days but their conversations were brief; almost forced, she thought. He had a lot to deal with, she would remind herself, but even Skye would comment on how little time he spent with Simmons. 

Until today.

 

* * *

 

“Simmons?” Coulson knocked as he entered her workspace. “Is this a good time?” 

She was crouched over her microscope, shoulders hunched. The ache was settling in deep between her shoulder blades. Usually Fitz would throw a wad of paper at her or poke her in the back when he noticed her getting too scrunched. She didn’t even realize how much of a difference it made until his absence. She was constantly in a state of discomfort these days, both physically and emotionally because of it. 

Slightly dazed and rather stiff, she looked up to find Coulson carrying a tray. He had made tea and sandwiches. No one on the Bus had ever made her tea, except Fitz. She stretched and rolled her shoulders before realizing she still had not answered him. “Yes of course Age-errr _, Director_ Coulson.” She moved a few files off her workstation and wheeled over a stool. “What do you need, sir? Oh that looks wonderful! Thank you!” She once again put on the bravest of faces in front of her commanding officer. 

Coulson took a seat and then poured the tea. He offered her a sugar cube and he gladly poured a pinch of milk into the tea. He thought it was strange to want milk in tea, but he knew that it was something that she and Fitz would do. He was good with details; it was part of what made him a great agent. Or at least it used to be, but he was not sure if being a great agent and a good person were the same thing after what he learned about TAHITI. He wanted to make them the same thing, and he was going to start now. 

“Jemma, how are you holding up?” he asked with a nervous yet somehow fatherly tone.  Coulson never really knew how to talk to Simmons; she was sci-ops and he was operations, there had always been a disconnect between the different sections of SHIELD, which was partly why he came to talk. 

She didn’t answer, but instead pulled her lips back into a taught, toothless smile. She wasn’t even going to attempt a lie, and the truth was so much worse. Finally after taking a long sip of tea, she answered. “I’m keeping myself busy. I find that staying focused on work keeps me from dwelling on…things.” 

Coulson smiled kindly. He wanted so much to undo what was done. He wanted to protect Simmons and Fitz and Skye from danger. They were not field agents. They were still kids in his eyes. Malleable clay; unfinished, unsculpted… In his eyes, they each had potential for a brilliance unmatched by any that came before them. He feared that Fitz would never meet his now, and he hated that Fitz was still recovering. He hated the psychological scars it had created in Simmons’ brilliant mind. He hated how brusque he had been with her all year; sure he contributed more than his fair share of those scars. He had been handed the unmanageable task of rebuilding SHIELD. He wanted that tabula rasa for his team as well. 

“Fitz is improving every day, and so much of that is because of you. He knows that, and so do we.” He wasn’t going to push. He was only going to nudge. He tried to dissolve the tension a bit. “Did I do okay with the tea? I’m more of a coffee person.” 

She smiled, a bit more genuine this time. “It’s not bad...for an American.” 

Coulson inhaled deeply as Simmons took a bite of the sandwich he made. “You are doing incredible work. But if you need to take some personal time…it’s okay.” Seeing her about to protest, he calmly put his hand up before she could speak. “I know that you won’t, but I want you to know that it’s okay. It’s okay to feel weak, and angry, and scared. It’s okay to hate Ward and it’s okay if you refuse to.  It’s okay that you have nightmares,” he paused, seeing her avert her gaze, the tears filling her eyes a little more fully. “We live in close quarters, Jemma,” he continued with a careful nod. “But it’s okay. I have night terrors every night.” 

She looked at him again, the tears seeming to have drained away. She was so brave, he thought. “You don’t have to hide it from me,” he sighed. ”I’m still processing the fact that TAHITI was _my project_. You’re taking on the weight of everything, and it’s too much for one small set of shoulders. Let me help. Let May help,” he paused, a twinkle in his eye. “Let Skye think she’s helping-it’s the only way to get her to let up.” 

She grinned, but shifted uncomfortably on her stool. Her sandwich now sat largely untouched. It was hard for her to listen to this man who had been so hard on her this past year. She now had some hindsight to see the big picture, but it was still a lot to go from one extreme to another. “I’ll take that into consideration, sir.” 

“Go ahead, eat, I’d hate for your sandwich to go stale and your tea to get cold,” he smiled as he swiveled slightly on his stool like a small child. 

“It’s very good, sir.” 

“Thanks. But it’s not as good as yours I hear,” he grinned. 

She blushed at this. Fitz had a big mouth. 

“Simmons, I’d like to help you…but I need your help too. It’ll be a sort of symbiotic rehab for both of us, I think.” 

She knit her brows together in confusion.  “Sir?” she asked. 

“We’ve been given an opportunity to start over. A brand new SHIELD. I want us to have a fresh start too. You and me.” 

“Sir, I…” she began. 

“I was too hard on you this last year. You and Fitz both…but mostly you. And I’m sorry for that. I put too much pressure on you to save Mike…to save Skye…to save me…and I shouldn’t have done that. And I’m sorry I put you on the ropes against a mad, mad man.” 

“Sir, I don’t…” she tried again to interrupt. 

“I was the mad man. And I was angry…get it? I was a mad, mad man.” He arched his eyebrows, hoping to again alleviate the seriousness of the conversation. 

Those were the words she didn’t realize she had so desperately wanted to hear. _I’m sorry._ The tears formed in her eyes again, but she steeled her resolve. She wasn’t going to crack in front of Coulson. She inhaled deeply and sat up taller. “I’d like that very much, sir.” 

“I would too.” He shook his head with a warm smile. 

“How do we do that, sir?” 

“We start up the Sci-Ops division again. Together. You and Me. And Fitz too, once he’s on the mend. I want you both to coordinate its restructure,” he said. He looked at her directly. “I’ll help you lay the groundwork.” 

Her eyes widened with shock. 

“No secrets, Simmons. Not anymore. Not between us. I’ve trusted you with my life and I want to trust you with…well, my _life._ SHIELD is the only life I’ve ever known, and I need you to help me fix it. What do you say?” He sat there, nervous, as if he had just proposed marriage. 

And finally, the tears fell. Just two, silently, through a genuine, bright smile; her first since being rescued from the ocean. 

“When can we start?”


End file.
